


intermittent melting

by blushingsweet (sunflowered)



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Barebacking, Dirty Talk, Dominance, Established Relationship, Face-Fucking, Felching, Humiliation, Light BDSM, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Voyeurism, sex tears, wow these tags are a lot lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-04-14 01:38:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14125311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflowered/pseuds/blushingsweet
Summary: "I don't think he wants to leave," Nicky says, looking up at him, smug and a little cocky. "Do you want to leave, Tom?"“No,” Tom says. He’s pressing his hands into his jeans, shifting on the floor. Alex wonders if his knees have started hurting yet; Nicky’s kept him there for a long time.





	intermittent melting

**Author's Note:**

> i was sad! so i wrote porn! porn is good! here is 3k of dirty porn; it cheered me up significantly, and i hope it will do the same for some of you too c: 
> 
> also please @ caps fandom we need more porn please this is my open call for More Porn, All The Time

Nicky brings people home all the time. Alex isn’t picky, so he’s not the one who normally gets to decide—it’s Nicky who decides who’s going to come home, who gets to fuck who. Alex is just here to comply, to watch, to do what Nicky says: and if Nicky wants to bring Tom Wilson, flushed and half-hard and wild around their eyes to his knees in their bedroom, then that’s what Alex wants, too. 

Not all of the people Nicky brings home are teammates, though they commonly are—Marcus, before he left, Andre, Evgeny. John, sometimes. It’s the first time Tom is here, though Alex is surprised it took them this long. He’s not blind; he’s seen Tom before, his reticence, the strong shoulders. He’s had ideas. 

But it’s not as if Tom has knelt here before, on the soft carpet, not like so many of their teammates had: their regulars know what Nicky wants at this point, naturally. It doesn’t mean Tom does, though he’s been with them for a long time—but he probably has an idea. Nicky’s nudging at him with his foot, absent-minded, as he finishes the glass of water. 

Alex presses his hands together. Fuck, it’s been so long since they did this. It feels like he’s going to vibrate out of his skin, looking at Tom, eyes following Nicky, mouth barely open like he’s thought about it before. 

“You can still leave, if you want,” Alex reminds him. Tom snaps his neck so quickly to look at him, wide-eyed, that Alex feels the need to steady him, to run his fingers through his hair. “No hard feelings.”

"I don't think he wants to leave," Nicky says, looking up at him, smug and a little cocky. "Do you want to leave, Tom?"

“No,” Tom says. He’s pressing his hands into his jeans, shifting on the floor. Alex wonders if his knees have started hurting yet; Nicky’s kept him there for a long time. “I want to—” Tom cuts himself off, so shy that you’d think he hadn’t draped himself all over Alex when Andre started spouting shit about being fucked by Nicky so hard he couldn’t walk the next day, like he wasn’t asking to be taken home. Well, he asked—and now he’s here.

Nicky tilts Tom’s face up, back to him, fingers at his jaw, and Alex bends down to dig his hand into the meat of his thigh, watching his determination to stay still. Nicky lets out a little soft laugh when Tom leans into Nicky’s hand, that silent beg for affection. 

“So,” Alex says, letting his hand slide upward as Nicky’s hand moves to tug his hair, slightly, disrupting it from the gel. He looks up at Nicky, then unbuttons Tom’s jeans, pulling the zipper down a few teeth—Tom’s fidgeting already, dick straining under Alex’s hand. “What do you want?” 

“Anything,” Tom rasps out, breath unsteady. “Whatever—whatever Nicky wants.”  

Alex hums, tugging his boxers off, pressing his thumb against the slit of his dick, watching Tom lean into it, before Nicky’s hand tightens around Tom’s jaw, closer to his throat. But he’s not looking at Tom—he’s looking right at Alex, playing with Tom’s dick, gaze unreadable.  

“Only Nicky?” Alex asks, and Tom whines when Alex’s hand closes tighter around his cock. He’s trying to fuck into his fist, twitching all over. He looks so good with his face red; Alex wants to see that between his thighs. Above him, underneath him; Nicky would like to watch. 

Tom whimpers a little, when Alex squeezes him, lips darting out to wet his bottom lip as he tries for a smile. “We all know you listen to him, anyway.” 

Nicky lets his words hang in the air for a little while, watching him strain. Alex is barely doing anything to his dick; his fist is loose, but he’s still panting, squeezing his eyes shut. “If you say so,” he says. He bends down to the floor, beside Alex, and pulls Tom closer to him, kissing him open-mouthed for a brief instant. Alex watches them, hard in his sweatpants, at the way Nicky holds him at a distance, doesn’t let Tom come closer for more, before he pushes him away to sit at the edge of the bed, right beside them. 

_ Fuck _ , Nicky looks good, legs spread open, his intent clear. Alex is jealous of Tom, a little bit, who has his eyes on Nicky’s cock, still hidden under his clothes. “You know what to do, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Tom says, and crawls over to where Nicky sits, places his sweaty palms on Nicky’s thighs. His hands look big, like that, spread out over the breadth of them. Nicky’s staring at Alex, now, waiting; he wants Alex there with Tom, so Alex will be. 

“You look good on your knees,” says Alex, close enough to his ear to feel him shiver all along Alex’s front, before Nicky drags Tom closer to him by his hair, unzipping his trousers; and then letting go. Alex wraps his hand back around his dick, pinches his side. Kisses his neck, sweating and shivering and good enough to eat. “Look better if you start sucking.” 

“I—” Tom starts, but Nicky levels him with a look:  _ enough _ . Tom’s dick jerks in his hand. Alex starts rubbing his cockhead a little, pleased; Nicky’s smiling at Alex for dragging the moans out of Tom. “Okay,” Tom breathes, and Alex blankets himself over his back, properly, like Tom had done two hours ago, to watch Tom lick at Nicky’s dick—before he takes Nicky’s cock into his throat in a slow, neat slide. 

“Good boy,” Nicky says, sighing, when Tom inevitably chokes on his dick. He’s blinking at Alex, almost sleepy, as Tom whines with his mouth full, fucking into Alex’s hand. Nicky hums, still looking at Alex, raising his eyebrows a little, and Alex pinches the head of Tom’s cock. He’s going to come soon, probably, uncoordinated; Nicky’s picking up his slack, fucking into his throat as he presses his back into Alex, moaning and trying to seek contact. 

“You look good,” Nicky says, holding his head still, brushing Tom’s tears away with his free hand. “Doesn’t he look good, Alex?”

Alex laughs. “Of course,” he says, and licks a stripe up Tom’s neck, releasing his hold on Tom’s dick when he feels him coming, spilling all over his stomach and the floor. Nicky’s coming too, moaning quietly as he fucks a few last thrusts into Tom’s throat, pulling out to let him swallow in peace, regain his breathing. Alex shifts to look at him better—he’s crying, a little bit, as he cools off. 

“Satisfied?” Nicky asks, patting Tom’s cheek. “Liked sucking me off?” 

Tom nods, dazed, eyes blinking. “Yeah,” he says, voice raw, trying to turn his face into where Alex’s neck is, but Nicky’s hold on him is still firm. “I liked it.”

“Good,” Nicky says, eyeing Tom’s dick. “Well, don’t go soft on us yet.” 

“W-what?” 

“Anything I want,” Nicky reminds him, and turns Tom’s chin back to him. Alex feels like he’s about to vibrate out of his skin; he knows what’s coming next. “Don’t hide,” Nicky warns.

“I’m sorry,” Tom apologises, contrite, and Nicky hums, pushing a few fingers into his mouth, fucking them in and out as he pleases. 

Alex starts slowly jerking Tom off again. 

Tom yelps, keening around Nicky’s fingers as he squirms, so Alex puts his other hand on Tom’s hip, holding him in place. He’s shaking harder, now, over-sensitive; Alex nearly feels bad for him. 

“Don’t thrash,” Nicky scolds, taking his fingers out to cup his jaw. He has come all over them, smeared onto Tom’s face, who flinches from the contact, but settles soon enough. “You’re going to fuck Alex, next.” 

“Oh.”

Nicky drags his fingers through the mess on Tom’s face, eyeing Alex. Alex smiles at him with his teeth—they’ve done this so many times; Nicky always wants the same things. Tom’s still seemingly unable to decide if he wants Alex jerking him off or not, overstimulated but still wanting it. 

Alex takes pity on him and lets him go. Nicky’s watching Tom’s dick, a little distant, as if he’s not yet decided on what to do. 

“Get on the bed,” Nicky says, to Tom, and then he turns to Alex: “You want him to fuck you?” 

“Yes,” says Alex, resting his fingers on Tom’s stomach, tacky with his come. “Well, I want you to fuck me, but I guess he will do.” 

“Do you want to, or do you not,” Nicky smiles, fondly, like he’s not trying to get someone’s dick in him. “I don’t want to fuck you tonight.” 

“I want to,” Alex says.

“Good,” Nicky says, and Alex climbs onto the bed to kiss the corners of his eyes, his forehead. Nicky’s pressing him into the mattress, a heavy, delicious weight above him, and Alex opens his mouth for him obediently, as he always does. 

“Um,” Tom says, standing up now, gaze wandering all over the both of them as Nicky kisses Alex. “So do I—” 

“Come here,” Nicky breaks away from the kiss, sighing, reaching over to the drawer to get the lube out. Alex lets him climb on top of him, heavy and uncaring. “Open him up.” 

“Oh,” says Tom. 

“Do you know how to fuck a person or not?” Nicky asks, a little meanly. “Do I have to teach you how to finger him, even?”

“No,” says Tom, quietly. “I know.” 

“Good,” Nicky sighs, leaning his head against Alex’s shoulder, then palms Alex’s dick, suddenly enough that Alex forgets himself and jolts forward at the contact, groaning, and then—Nicky slaps him, across the face, a sharp sting that melts his spine. 

Tom looks mildly terrified, but turned on nonetheless—Alex supposes they’re on the same page, then. Good. 

Nicky makes a soft, irritated sound, and shifts to sit behind Alex, on the headboard. Alex’s head tilted at an angle, against his chest, Nicky’s thumb rubbing on his lips. “Don’t make Alex wait,” he says. 

“I’m sorry,” Tom apologises, and he’s between Alex’s spread legs in an instant, taking his sweatpants off, eyes flickering between Nicky and Alex. For an instant, all Alex wants is for Tom to fuck up, to see Nicky frustrated; the thought feels so good that Alex reels him in with his hands, wants to watch him stammer from up close. He still has come on his face, clinging to his lips. 

Tom’s pressing into Alex, now, lube warm on his fingers—so thoughtful, really, but unnecessary; Alex wants a lot of things, but the last thing he wants right now is  _ nice _ . He’s being gentle, not so much fucking, but— 

“Put another finger in him,” Nicky says, letting Alex mouth at his thumb, his other hand spread over him, anywhere that Nicky could reach. “He’s good for it.” 

Tom swallows, audible above Alex, and complies, licking the come off his lips, almost benevolent, and then he tugs at Alex’s rim, rubs Alex’s hole until his legs start shaking from it. It’s awful, being teased right now, but Alex knows better than to ask for more; he’ll take what Nicky wants him to take.  

Nicky lowers his head to kiss Alex’s temple, sweet and condescending. “Isn’t he pretty?” He asks, humming at the whines sounding from Alex’s throat, the soles of his foot rubbing along the covers, Tom’s nodding, staring down at—Alex’s dick, painful and hard, leaking steadily onto his stomach; Jesus, Tom is barely touching him, now, just smearing the lube around his hole. 

“Great,” Nicky says, and then he pinches Alex’s nipple so hard that he yelps, fucks up into the air from the pain. “Give him another one; don’t be nice this time.” 

“Right,” Tom says, and sinks in three of his fingers, long and hard and delicious. Alex’s dick feels like it’s about to break; swollen and red and desperate. He wraps a hand around it, thoughtless, just to—relieve the pressure—but Nicky slaps him again, this time, harder, drawing another whine out of Alex that dies down as Nicky closes his hand around Alex’s throat. Not tight enough to—just a reminder. 

“Whatever happened to listening?” Nicky asks, and Alex closes his eyes, still twitching from everything; Tom’s fingers fucking him hard, making those wet, ugly noises. 

“Sorry,” Alex says, before he takes Nicky’s fingers into his mouth, sucking on them in apology.

“Thought you were gonna listen to me,” Nicky reminds him, drawing a line across the ridges of his teeth, stroking his tongue. Fuck, it feels good, being rubbed all over like that, his dick left ignored, Nicky’s thumb caressing his throat. “Aren’t you going to listen to me, Sasha?” 

Alex opens his eyes, but doesn’t quite meet Nicky’s gaze. He looks at Tom, instead, his dick fully hard, now, one hand grabbing Alex’s thigh as he fucks him steadily with the other. Alex can hear himself, how he’s moaning, whimpering, mouth loose around Nicky’s fingers, the slickness of his hole as Tom fucks him hard enough to push him back into Nicky’s chest. 

“I’m gonna come,” Alex mumbles, as clearly as he can, while Nicky’s still stroking his tongue, drooling a little. Oh,  _ oh _ , he’s going to come, without anybody touching his dick; Tom’s fingers feel so good in him, pistoning in and out and brushing over his prostate all the same. “I’m gonna—” 

“Don’t,” warns Nicky, his grip on him tightening, but that does it; pushes Alex over the edge so hard that he’s shaking, coming all over himself, onto Nicky’s hands, trembling and shaking as Tom refuses to let him go. It’s so,  _ so  _ good, that sweet pressure on him, but abruptly, Nicky pulls away. Alex can’t even process it at first—just shakes and shakes and shakes until he’s spent, sweaty and limbless and so good. 

Then it settles in: that feeling of having fucked up, and Alex wrenches his eyes back open, staring at Nicky, towering over him with a sneer.

“Can’t do anything right, can you?” Nicky sighs, and then he’s dragging Alex by the hand, dragging him to lie face-down into the mattress, sluggish and still panting. He has one hand pressed into Alex’s back like a brand. “Well, I guess you can at least try and hold still so that Tom could fuck you.” 

Alex hums, though it’s more like a moan, tilting his head to breathe—he knows he’s not supposed to talk, at least, but he groans when someone pushes his legs forward into a kneeling position, ass up in the air. He tries to shift a little, but Nicky’s hand smacks him on the thigh: another warning. 

Alex stays still. 

He’s loose; but when Tom pushes his dick in him, it’s still overwhelming, and Alex sighs into it, filled up and not having to do anything but take it; take Tom’s cock and Nicky rubbing a hand on his back as he watches. Alex feels—he’s dizzy with it, and his dick is hardening again, pulsing and almost protesting, a little limp, but Alex can feel the need to fuck his hips into the mattress, but he doesn’t; keeps his ass up high, like he’s supposed to. 

“You’re so wet,” says Nicky, stroking the come around his stomach, avoiding his dick. “All tight around Tom, aren’t you?” 

Alex pushes back onto Tom, into—them. The bed is creaking under the weight of them, of Tom holding him hard enough to bruise, of Alex unable to stop himself from rocking back into it. Nicky’s hand is—everywhere, on him, lighting him up, and Alex’s dick hurts, making him moan brokenly into the bedspread, eyes tight. 

Tom’s making these gut-punched sounds, now, and Alex wants to—wants to look at him. He’s so pretty when he comes; Alex wants to watch him come in him, wants to feel him groan above as he takes what he wants from Alex. He’s fucking him so good, now, sharp little thrusts that hurt so good, so big and rough; Alex wants more in him, wants more of Tom, if he could just—slide his fingers in along his dick—  

“Please,” Alex whines, “Just, fuck, oh my god—” 

“Shut up,” Nicky snaps, and Alex sobs, earning him another slap on his thigh. “You’re just supposed to take it, remember?” 

“Y-yeah,” Alex says, rocked back and forth on the bed, dick aching, desperate for friction: he wonders if Tom is going to come, soon, if the sounds of him groaning harsher and harsher are a sign. And then he does; filling him, pumping into him, his dick pulsing, and he’s quiet. Nicky’s probably glaring at him. And then he pulls out—way too quickly, gone in the snap of a finger. 

Nicky’s pushing the come back into him, of course; he likes that. Does that every single time. Over and over again, and Alex clenches around him, lets him rub lube and come all over his hole, his thighs. He’s cruel about it, pressing and rubbing and still ignoring the fact that Alex is fucking his dick into thin air, again, into nothing. Alex wishes he could see Tom’s face; he know exactly what he looks like right now. 

“You can touch yourself, now,” Nicky says, and Alex whimpers in relief; keening when his fingers finally wrap themselves around his cock, his thumb over his foreskin: finally,  _ finally _ . “Keep your ass up.” 

“Oh, _shit_ ,” Alex breathes out, sliding his hand up his own length, pressing his face back into the mattress. He’s choking on sounds, now, with Nicky’s fingers rubbing come all over him, hole still spread open, thighs shaking. He’s wondering what Tom sees, if he liked it; liked fucking Alex, if he wants to come back, like everyone else does, if he wants to fuck Alex again, if Alex could ride him, another time. Nicky likes that. 

Alex’s hand speeds up, fingers rubbing together as they twist over the head of his cock, and it hurts; over-sensitive and slippery and wet, but so good, punching these breaths out of him as someone— _ Nicky _ —bends down to lick at his hole, fucking his tongue in—and Alex comes, again, legs giving out underneath him. Nicky follows him down to lap at his hole, kisses him there for an eternity, until he pulls away to press two fingers back inside him before declaring himself done. 

Alex is still trembling. He’s too tired to check for Tom, just wants to—sink into the mattress for a little while. Nicky’s hand wipes on his back before he pushes his fingers into his hair, before they travel down to his nape, scratching his fingers at his scalp. 

“Tom?” Alex says, after an eternity of being petted like a cat. 

“Bathroom,” says Nicky. “You did good.” 

“Think he’ll come back?” Alex asks, muffled by the covers. 

“Of course he will,” Nicky declares, “Look at you; how could he not?”

 

**Author's Note:**

> come and yell at me on [tumblr](https://kuznetso.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/blushingsweet)! happy to talk about everything, inclusive of angsty porn, russian hockey players, and bad trade decisions by the washington capitals.


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